Grounded by Neta Jackson Read Free Book Online Page B

married? She and Roger would choose a house together …
    Grace pulled the vacuum into her bedroom. She still hadn’t unpacked. The damp bath towel lay on the floor. She threw everything onto the unmade bed and tackled the rug.
    Roger had certainly seemed like “The One” when she first met him two years ago at County Line Christian Fellowship, a large suburban church straddling the line between Cook and Dupage Counties. He had All-American college-football good looks, was a leader of the singles group and one of County Line’s many up-and-coming professionals. She’d participated in many of the church’s musical presentations, and he’d seemed mesmerized by her soprano voice, even pleased as her career picked up. Everyone said what a great couple they made, so well suited. No one was surprised when they’d announced their engagement last year.
    Should I have seen it coming? Roger usually called me every night when I was on tour … but on this last tour, the calls have been more irregular …
    Pulling the vacuum cleaner out of the bedroom and down the hall into the living room, she plugged it into another socket and set to work again.
    â€¦ and now that I think about it, when we did talk, he seemed kind of distant when I tried to tell him about that night’s concert, as if he was bored, or distracted. Something …
    As she stooped to pick up the mail on the floor by the front door, the framed photo on the lamp table beside the couch caught her eye. A picture of her and Roger, cheek to cheek, smiling happily at their engagement party. Turning off the machine, she picked up the photo and stared at it wistfully for a long moment. Surely it couldn’t be over.They had so much going for them! Both were mature adults with solid careers, a shared faith, mutual attraction. They were equally active in ministry, though in different spheres. She’d considered herself blessed to be engaged to one of County Line’s most eligible single guys—something she didn’t take for granted at the age of twenty-nine.
    Who’d just dumped her.
    Pressing her lips into a thin line, she stuck the photo out of sight in the walnut drop-front secretary desk, along with all the letters, junk mail, bank statements, and magazines her brother had picked up each time he’d come by to check on the house. She could’ve asked the post office to hold her mail, but with a mail slot, no one could see the mail piling up inside and she didn’t have to go get it when she got home. The bank paid most of her regular bills automatically. Still. She should go through the mail soon to check her statements and make sure everything was up to date …
and
read her fan mail—the mail that Samantha usually answered so artfully. Precious letters. Letters that encouraged her and kept her going.
    Well … tomorrow. She’d take care of the mail tomorrow.
    Grace resumed vacuuming, but for some reason the glut of mail lured her. Maybe just one letter, something reassuring. Turning the vacuum cleaner off and dropping the wand, she opened the secretary and picked out a letter, one with the familiar Forward from the box she rented at Mail Boxes Etc. just for fan mail. Slitting the envelope with a letter opener from the walnut desk, she curled up on the velvety sectional couch and pulled out a sheet of thin-ruled notebook paper. Immediately Oreo appeared and hopped into her lap as she started reading …
    Dear Miss Grace
,
    I love your CD! I was so excited when you came to Florida this month. My parents got tickets for me and a girlfriend for my birthday, which is January 5. It was my Sweet 16. They didn’t know it, but it was God who told them to get those tickets. Because you see, my boyfriend has been asking me to have sex with him. Big time. Told me if I really loved him, I’d prove it by having sex. Well, I do love him. He is so cute! Like, he plays basketball and is really